


Shivers and Stars

by MoveTheUniverse



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, stand alone smut for a longer story that actually has plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-07 13:55:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16855240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoveTheUniverse/pseuds/MoveTheUniverse
Summary: Stand-alone Boba/Leia romantic things inspired by TO MOVE THE UNIVERSE. Each chapter can be read on its own, but for a fuller story, read the other fic too.





	1. During Chapter 7: Legacy

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [To Move the Universe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16240022) by [Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome/pseuds/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome). 



> Inspired by the idea of "deleted scenes" TO MOVE THE UNIVERSE. The chapter names tell you where they would fit in the overall story, but they do (mostly) stand alone.  
> If you're just reading for the smut, skip the stuff in italics  
> Enjoy! Please comment if you'd like! They make my day.

* * *

 

_From TO MOVE THE UNIVERSE, Chapter 7_

_"Leia…” Boba starts. Some stupid part of him wonders if he’s only saying that so he can hear his first name, like she had said it._

_“You’re right,” she mumbles, tucking herself back against him. “We shouldn’t.” She’s still shivering, though, and it seems like there’s nothing he can do to get her warm. He’s already turned the ship thermostat to its highest temperature, which is, admittedly, frosty. His hand rubs her back, fingertips pressing along the muscles under her shoulderblade, and traveling down her arm. She’s got a fighter’s form, underneath all those outfits. He wonders how good of a shot she really is. He’s still wondering that, when she asks, “Have you killed Jedi?”_

_“Yes.”_

_He could have never expected her next question, “will you teach me?”_

_He kisses her as an answer. The universe exists between them, as they touch, each kiss lulling them toward sleep, fooling them into thinking they can cross the distance between as easily as they can move to touch each other._

_The universe is cold, and harsh, and for Leia, so much darker a place than it had been yesterday.  He tries to be warm, and attempts gentleness just for her, because he knows there is nothing he can do to chase away the darkness. He lives in the shadows himself, and she had always been the light that tempted him upward._

_Now, he can’t shake the feeling that they’re both falling._

 

* * *

 

 

Alderaan is gone, and Leia is so cold. Cold enough she knows she’ll never be warm again, not like she used to be. Not like she had been, up until that moment the Slave I had landed in the asteroid field that had once been her home.

“You’re shivering,” Boba says. He’s next to her on the bed, his hands resting on his thighs. He’s not even a little out of breath from the kissing they’d been doing up until then. The kissing that had let her forget everything until then. She wants that bliss back. Doesn’t want to feel anything but his warm body, his growing need.

She pulls him closer, and her fingers tug off his shirt.

Boba Fett is incredibly well-built. Really, she shouldn’t be surprised. The man’s a trained bounty hunter, after all. But still… Leia grew up around soldiers, and had seen plenty of male humanoids shirtless in a hand-to-hand combat ring. None of them had muscles like this. Her fingers skim up one of his arms, feeling the corded strength there, and then, over his broad chest. He catches her hand suddenly. “Like what you see?”

“Mm. I think it’s a shame you keep all this hidden under armor.”

He laughs, and rolls them over the bed. His laugh is more intoxicating than the kisses. It’s so rare, still, that she treasures that deep, rolling chuckle. Wants to remember it forever, because she knows… She knows this moment  is rare, a treasure like a snowflake in her hand, soon gone forever.

The narrow bed creaks underneath them. Boba’s hands made short work opening the flight suit she wears, which makes sense, since it is his. She tries to find a quippy remark, but rapidly forgets to speak as his mouth moves down her collarbone, to her breast. That wicked mouth of his is skilled and warm as he sucks, hard, against one hard nipple. Her fingers dig into his shoulder.

She cries out his name, then, sudden and sharp. They’re alone on his ship, there’s no one to hear. But still, he looks up at her, and there’s something almost like shock in his eyes. But why… Was it his name? She considers that fact, her hand moving back to his face, to trace over his sharp jawline. His hair is short, except for the now tousled mess of dark hair on top, and she lets her nails rake across his scalp.

“You want me,” he says. It’s supposed to be a statement but the fact his voice lifts, ever so slightly, turning it into a question, makes Leia all the more weak for him.  How could he be surprised she wants him? When he is strong, and brave, and has always been kind to her…

Kind, of course, being a relative term in a war.

Respectful, maybe. Not respectful in the bowing and scraping way too many courtiers tried. But he respects her power, her autonomy, her ideas, in a way that not even other Rebellion leaders do.

Respect, it turns out, is an amazing aphrodisiac.

Leia pushes up with one shoulder, against his powerful frame. He takes the hint with surprising ease, letting her roll the two of them so she can straddle him. All their movements are careful, since the bed is barely big enough for one, let alone two. But he offered no resistance to the change of position.  She’d thought he’d be a man who liked to be on top.

“Is this all right?” She blurts out.

One of his eyebrows rises, just a fraction. He nods down at the bulge in his trousers behind her, at her unfastened flight suit, at all of their passion. He’s not one for words, when a nod will do.

Maybe it was a stupid question. She’s sure she has some intelligent reason for asking. Something that mattered, in the moment. She just needs to find the words. Because it doesn’t seem like he’s going to move to touch her again until she explains herself.  But instead of anything reasonable, she blurts out “Section three of the Master Charter on Humanoid Rights, signed by the Galactic Senate, states that every being entering into a sexual situation should clearly and specifically ask for consent prior to engaging in any intimate contact.”

The eyebrow arches just a little more. “Are you quoting a humanoid rights charter to me?”

“Y-yes.”

“In bed.”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m not doing my job well enough.” His smirk is as deadly as any of the weapons on his armor as he looks up at her, studying her mostly naked body. One of his hands slides against her side, his fingers curving around her bare hip in an altogether positive way. She recognizes the fire behind that smirk, the same that had lead to their first kiss. There’s a wildness in Boba Fett he’s been trying hard to keep at bay. There’;s a hunger in him perhaps as deep as her own.

“I just want to be clear, that you want me. That you want this.” Of course, saying that implies that either one of them has any idea of what _this_ really is. This messy, tangled thing they’d fallen into.

At her words, all trace of a smirk, of any smug humor fades. He sits up, keeping her legs around his waist, but now, their eyes are level. Looking at him like this, it’s all too easy to remember he’s nearly twice her age. That this is probably far from his first night of passion in this tiny bed.

His voice is as clear and sober as it was when they used to negotiate terms of contracts. “Yes. Leia, I want you. Tonight. Tomorrow, when we wake up. After that,” he shrugs. “I can’t make promises.”

Of course not. He’s a bounty hunter. He deals in freelance work. Not commitments.  But she’s a princess without a kingdom, a rebel leader with no army. There’s no way she can promise anything to him, either. “Then, I want you too. Now.”

He kisses her, then. Hard. His hands are in her hair, keeping her against him. His tongue pushes into her mouth, conquering her in a way she’d never even dreamed she’d want. But it’s a conquering that offers release, a control that lets her willing surrender. He offers her oblivion, and she craves it.

She starts to rock, desperately, halfway through the kiss, her body seeking a release she doesn’t know how to ask for. His cock, though, feels good, pressed between her legs. Maybe too good. The world spins around them, and Boba Fett is the only thing that feels real in the whole universe. Leia ruts against him, searching, searching, searching, for something she can’t describe. Something to fill the emptiness inside her.

“Easy,” he whispers, and his voice is hoarse. “I… fuck. Here.” He moves one of her legs, letting her press against his thigh.She’s aware, now, of just how wet she is, the damp spot shifting with the movement. There’s even a little dampness on his trousers, at the end of the curving outline of his cock.

She blushes, trying not to look at the bulge she’d just nearly had inside her, if it wasn’t for two layers of fabric between them. “Was that bad?”

His kiss on her lips could almost be called sweet, if that word could describe anything about the galaxy’s most deadly bounty hunter. “No. But it was gonna give me rugburn before it got me off.”

Her cheeks darken with embarrassment. They’ve reached basically the limits of all she knows, and she’s all too aware of his greater experience.

But he just brushes the hair from her sweaty shoulder, tugging the top of the garment off her at the same time. “You’ll like this better,” he says. His hand on her hip starts to move her, the pressure of his leg more than enough to send stars into her vision.

“Ah-ah!”

Her nails dig hard into his back. His teeth return the soft pain, nipping at her collarbone. “That’s’ right. You can cum.”

The dirty words deepen her blush. He smiles against her skin, a private grin she only feels and cannot see. There’s so little of Boba she truly sees, even when he’s half naked. “That’s right. Cum for me. Just like that…” His hand drives her pace harder. Control slides further and further out of her reach.

Until her body arches and stars explode within her. The waves of pleasure send shudders coursing through her, leaving her gasping, clinging to him.

He holds her through all of it, before carefully laying her back on the bed. “You haven’t....” he wets his lips and can’t find a way to finish the sentence.

“You can tell me to cum, but you can’t ask if I’m a virgin?” she retorts. That’s the word they use on Alderaan, anyway. Other planets have long since stopped demarcating it with a word. Other planets that weren’t glittering, poetry-filled Alderaan. Other planets, that still orbited their suns, that still had life.

Leia closes her eyes. Silence fills the room once more. Boba’s breathing is so quiet, if it wasn't for the press of his weight above her, she’d think he’d left. He doesn't even smell of cologne, the way so many other men do. Maybe just a little hint of clean soap, mixed with the tang of salt from all their desire.

He kisses her cheek. Sweetly, she thinks again. And again chides herself for thinking of him like that. He’s not sweet. He’s not even really hers.

He’s only sweet for now. Only hers for tonight.

“We’re stopping here.” He has a way of saying commands so softly that even she, who rebelled against any authority (long before she joined any actual Rebellion),yielded.

Sometimes.

“What? Why?” She demands.

“Because I’m not having your first time be…”

“Be with you?” she fires back, her fingers tightening into fists in the sheets. Was she too much of a burden to bed? Was that it? Did he think her fragile after all?

There is fire in his eyes when he glowers back at her. “Not what I meant _, princess_.” He drawls the title like an insult.

Reminding her the title means nothing. Not any more. She flinches and snarls back, “fine, _bounty hunter_.” She's furious, and when she's furious with him is when she most wants to fuck him.

Instead of it stoking his fire though, her tone just makes him sigh. “That’s better saved for a night when you’re more clear headed.”

He’s probably right. The thought just infuriates her though. She tries to kiss him again, and he pulls away. “What about that charter, now, Leia?” his tone is more gentle though. “Consent, and all that.”

Damn him. He’s right. Again.

She exhales, long and slow. “I just… I want you.”  
“Yeah, believe me, I can tell.” For the briefest of seconds, his hand strokes between her legs, letting her siver at the warm hand on the wet fabric. The shivers grow when she imagines that had touching her with no fabric. “But you’ve had a  kriffing hell of a day.”

That too, is accurate.

And he did say he’d want her tomorrow...

“Can I at least…” it’s her turn to pause, nervously worrying her lip. “Can I at least get you off?”

He doesn’t answer at first, adjusting them both to fit on the bed. The way he furrowed his eyebrows as multiple ideas of his backfire into one person’s limbs dangling somewhere awkward suggests to her maybe that this isn’t that usual for him either.  
Maybe it’s new for them both.

That’s a welcome thought.

But once they’re finally settled in, he presses a button on the montir beside the bed, dimming the lights. Then, he takes her hand and guides it past the waistband of his trousers. Her breath catches when she feels his warm skin. Her fingers curve around him, taking careful notice of his girth.

His impressive girth.

She wonders if he’d let her use some of those painkillers again, if they do end up having sex.  At first she just explores him, dancing fingers down his length, rubbing his sensitive tip carefully, pleased to find there’s already a little precum there.

But not enough to make stroking him easier.

Leia wets her lips. But boba misses both her motion and what she wanted to offer. Instead, he takes her hand back, and places some oil in it from a jar apparently hidden on his side of the bed.

Leia tries not to think of how hot he must look, when he uses that  oil alone. Then, she decides to give in to the fantasy as she starts to stroke him in earnest, coaxing a shuddering gasp from him.

She matches his earlier smirk. This, she knows, she’s quite good at. Her fingers twist as they travel, and smooth over his tip with a maneuver some other man had once called wicked.

But Boba is no young teen like the men Leia had first experimented with were, and proves to be a little harder to get off. After she works him for a few minutes, he coughs. “Sorry, it’s sort of,” he shrugs. “Weird. It’s weird.”

Leia laughs, then, sudden and soft. She has to stop, to shake her head and explain. “I’m not laughing at you. I just… I’ve never met any man who thought such a thing.”

The tiniest bit of a red flush appears high on his cheeks. “Spent too much time on my own, maybe.” He shrugs again, and readjusts them in the bed, so he can flick his tongue over her nipple. It’s enough to make whimper, almost forgetting her task.

As his lips suck her aching breast, she fights to keep her voice controlled. “Doesn’t seem to have, ah, impacted your ability.”

He shrugs again, barely pausing in his task. “That's what books are for.”

Leia can’t help it. She’s laughing again. Laughing like she thought she never would, not after losing her home. But it’s too simple, too normal a thing. “Why, Boba Fett.” She begins,still laughing as she says his name. It might be the first time anyone’s laughed those words in delight at all. “Are you telling me you learned to pleasure women from romance holobooks?”

The idea is as preposterous as it is practical.

And Boba Fett, is, after all, a practical man.

“Mm. People.” He kisses her, taking her hand and putting it back on his cock. “Learned a lot about people from books.”

They stop talking after that. Leia learns just how to stroke him to bring him release. He covers her body in kisses, and more than one possessive bite mark. Those, she’s pretty sure, are all his wildness, and nothing from a book. They’re little echoes of that hunger she sees sometimes in him. That need that she aches to meet with her own. The wildness that he shows in battle, in flight maneuvers, and she thinks, probably, in bed.

If only he would let his guard down enough to show her.

Because she finds she likes that wildness a great deal.

But not as much as she just likes curling up next to him when they both finally surrender to sleep. His broad chest makes the best pillow she's had in days.

Not as much as she likes the sound of him breathing out her name one more time. It's a sound she could grow so used to hearing. A lullaby she didn't know she needed.

Not as much as she likes… him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Now, on the Slave I, all that training rushed back into her body.  Her frame drops low, her hand coming out and tighten to a fist. A flash of annoyance crosses Boba’s face, that she’d try such an easy maneuver. But even one of the galaxy’s best bounty hunters hadn’t expected the princess to fight like a street-rat from Fest._

_While he focuses on blocking the too-weak punch, her knee swings up and into his stomach, hard. The other arm swings down, smashing her elbow into the back of his neck._

_Boba’s breath lets out in a sudden cough._

_Leia yeps, and steps back, her eyes going wide. She’d never actually hit someone before, not that hard. Cassian had always had her stop just before the moment of impact. She’d never done that to a person. Shot at them, yes. Usd the Force on (apparently), yes.  To her, the two are so different, that she’s utterly shocked when he looks up at her with the same delighted, feral, hunger in his eyes. The same fire that had burned in his gaze when he’d undressed her. “Boba…” she whispers._

_Wordlessly, he pounces. She might have landed a hit on him, but he is the trained fighter, and moves faster than she ever could. He pushes her back, against the cold wall of his ship. But instead of a punch, it’s a kiss that makes contact between them. He kisses her lips, her neck, a sudden desperation revealing itself. Her hands now come up, not to strike, but to wrap around his strong shoulders, to hold her steady as his kiss steals her breath._

_“You fight dirty,” he says, and it’s with such a purr that Leia feels the heat of ten-thousand suns ignite somewhere lower than her hips. His teeth nip her collarbone, and her back arches._

_“Bo…Boba,” she whispers. Should they be doing this? In the middle of fighting lessons? Right after she’d learned…_

_Learned exactly what she wanted to forget._

_And kissing Boba Fett seems a very pleasurable way to forget, indeed._

_(From TO MOVE THE UNIVERSE, CHAPTER 7:[link](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16240022/chapters/39612499))_

* * *

 

The fighting lesson blends with the kiss for a little while longer. Boba's not sure what the difference is, sometimes, with her. She kisses like a knife in the ribs, all sharp and sudden, killing him before he even realizes he’s been hit. He can’t kiss like that. There’s nothing about him, when it comes to  _ this _ that is graceful and poised. His hands feel too big, too clumsy, as they skim over her shoulders, tugging the jumpsuit down and letting him kiss her collarbone. The sweat pooled there is salty and warm. ALl of her is warm, including her core, he knows. He can feel it, from the way she stands, her legs on either side of his. He uses that as his advantage, one of his hands dropping down to rub there, pressing the wet fabric roughly against her clit until she gasps.

It thrills him, that she’s this wet from a kiss alone. It drives him wild that she wants to fight and she wants to kiss and she’s so ready to  _ fuck. _

Leia crumples first, her legs giving out when his other hand  find her breasts. What he doesn’t expect is for her leg to hook out in a wicked little maneuver, knocking him down.    
Before he smashes into his own ship’s floor, he twists, turning the fall into a roll. He lunges forward, and pins her beneath him, one of his hands on each one of her delicate wrists. It’s a move he suddenly worries is too much like a fight, so he kisses her hard, before demanding, “Who taught you?”

“A friend,” she says.

He gives her a disbelieving look. She fights like a street rat with nothing to protect and everything to prove, which is the exact opposite of the way he’s sure a princess would be taught self-defense.

“I have friends,” she retorts.

“Mm.” He pulls her to him as he sits back on the floor.  “I don’t,”

“I wonder why?”

“They don’t appreciate my humor.”

His mouth quirks in a bit of a smile, which feels odder to him than his erection. He’s used to being turned on, sometimes even accidentally. He’s not used to speaking this much, or this openly, with anyone. Leia has that ability, though, that way of splicing through his walls of coldness and prying out his personality, the same one he’s always kept hidden. It’s what must have made her a damn good diplomat, because it’s almost impossible to lie to her. 

If he’s honest with himself, that ability of hers, to see beyond his coldness, to speak to him the same way when he’s in armor or in bed with her, to treat him always, always like a person she respects, scares him far more than any time she’s used the Force.

He kisses her, to stop his thoughts. Her teeth seize his lip and tug, because she’s clearly not ready to surrender the fight.   
Good.

Boba lives for the challenge.

Leia’s next move is a surprising one. She palms him, then, through the fabric of this trousers. Her smirk when she feels how hard he already is … might be the most wicked thing he’s seen her do, and he’s seen her force-choke someone.  She gives him a gentle squeeze. “Hold still.”

“Wha…”

It’s rare for Boba to not finish a sentence. She nearly glows with pride, as she tugs him free of the trousers.  Carefully, she crouches over him, then, softly, licks his tip.

He curses, loud. Her tongue is warm and that’s really all he can think. His thoughts turn blank, replaced only by a low, constant buzz of hunger. She takes the head into her mouth, and then, pulls him back out, letting the suction make her lips pop teasingly.

He’s gone completely quiet, slack-jawed in awe. Leia is good. Very good. Pulling him in deep with a skill that  _ has _ to be practiced and it’s best for them both if he doesn’t wonder who the lucky bastard was who got to be her teacher. Instead, he clenches his fists and breathes out to an eight-count, the same way he’s learned to block his mind from pain. If he doesn’t, he’ll surrender to the wild thoughts screaming in the back of his mind. He wants to see her take him to his base. He wants to be so deep that he feels nothing but her, watches as her eyes widen when he fucks her mouth.

Instead, he braces himself, and wills his hips not to rock forward. He needs to be the one to keep control of this situation, as much control as any part of this kriffing insane scenario he’s entrapted in has. But even a ship in free-fall can be piloted to a successful landing.  Boba’s a much better pilot than a lover. He just needs to believe he can pilot them into something that won’t destroy either of them. He caves, only a little, and that’s to rest one hand on her back, encouraging her. He wishes he was better with words, knew how to coax her. Instead, he groans out her name. “Leia.”

She pulls back, suddenly.

“Too much?” he asks. 

“Not enough,” she replies, taking his hand and placing it on the back of her head. “Show me how you want it.”

It’s more than he could dream of asking for, and he’s not a man used to dreaming of much. So, he pushes her down, makes her swallow him deep. Little tears well in her eyes, but when she starts humming, he lets out his concern in a sigh. She wants this. She wants him.

He’s not used to being wanted.

He’s used to being used. That’s the way stuff like this goes. Boredom, fucking, a single bright note of an orgasm, chased directly a slight sense afterward that it really wasn’t that good, that neither of them really enjoyed themselves, and then, life resumes. Sex, for him, has been as routine as buying a new case of meal replacement bars.

With Leia, there are as many bright spots of pleasure as there are stars in the sky. When she smiles at him, heat rushes through his body almost to the same degree it did when she’d palmed his cock. It terrifies him to admit that, even to himself. He tries hard to stay in the moment, to watch her with her mouth full of him, to rock into her with short, hard thrusts… but he can’t shake the sense that this is only a taste.   
That he wants her as a meal. As every meal. He wants her beneath him, crying his name, and he wants her riding him, so senseless she can’t even remember his name.

But most terrifying of all, he wants her to be  _ safe. _

It’s not a word he’s used to thinking, let alone trying to find. But clumsily, he offers what he can of it to her. His hand leaves the chestnut mane he’d so enjoyed, and strokes her cheek. “Good,” he whispers. “You’re good. You’re really good.”

She stutters in her movements then. THere’s the smallest brush of her teeth on his skin, the rhythm falling away from them… but he still cums. His hips jerk hard, bucking up into her.

Because of the way her eyes had looked up at him.

It’s a sudden, wild feeling, a hot release that leaves him gasping. THere hadn’t even been time to ask for her preference, before he’s filled her mouth with his desire.

Leia pulls back, only the smallest fraction of an inch. Her hand gently moves his softening cock away. And then, she licks her lips, swallowing every last bit of him, her eyes never leaving his.

His release had brought a sighing groan. That action made him curse with pleasure. “Oh, fuck, Leia.”  Warmth spreads over him as she climbs into his lap once more. He kisses her as a way of showing his gratitude. There were very few times in his life he might use the word joy. If happiness was a meter like a pressure gauge, he’s pretty sure his stopped at content.

But in this small moment, holding her, tasting her with his own desire on her lips, he comes pretty damn close to being happy.

 

There’s not any good way to get in position to return. Not on this floor. But Boba doesn’t want to lose the moment. His fingers make quick work of her flight suit, shucking her out of it. He pauses to kiss each breast, enjoying how hard her nipples are. Then, he lays back, on her pile of clothes and tugs her forward. “C’mon. Sit.”

“Where?” she asks

“My shoulder,” he drawls, “though my mouth might be preferable.   
She hovers over him, clearly a little more self conscious about giving rather than receiving. So he does his best to put her at ease, pressing kisses to her inner thighs.

Her body shivers. He feels his own do the same. Her skin is so soft, so warm.

“Relax,” he says. His tongue makes one, slow, languid sweep. She tastes really fucking good. She’s  wet, ready for him. Very ready. With only one kiss to her center, she’s already gasping.

But he’s not ready for that. It’s too much. Too soon. Which is stupid, given that he’s known her for longer than anyone he’s ever fucked before. But this is a fragile thing, like a blade made of glass, and he doesn’t intend on shattering it.

Not yet.

Instead, he buries his face between her legs and devours her. Leia first tries not to say anything, then moans, then screams. It’s only when she goes silent, shivering with the aftershocks, does he whisper, “I could eat you out, every damn day.”

“I… I’d like that.” she admits.

It’s the first time either of them have discussed a future.

He returns to his work, sucking her throbbing clit until she curses him with words he’s delighted to find she knows. His fingers wrap around her thighs, amazed at how much muscle he finds there. But it makes sense, given the way she’s fought. She’s a princess and a fighter, and for right now, she’s all his.

After, she curls up in his arms, barely dressed back in her borrowed flight suit. He’s never going to be able to look at that one again. Not unless he wants to take a cold jump in the ‘fresher right after. 

“Boba?” she asks.

“Mm.” It’s easier when she calls him Fett. Easier to pretend he doesn’t care about her, and she doesn’t know who he is.

“You’ve… done this before, right?”

“Given head to a princess on the floor of my ship before?” he retorts.

“Yes. Exactly that. Well done.” His eyes are closed, but he can imagine her face, and again, it forces a bit of a smile from him.

“I mean. Had someone. Like… me. Like us. As… you know.”

There’s no one like her. He can’t tell her that any more than he can admit to her that there will never be an  _ us  _  for the two of them. He’ll get her to Mandalore, he’ll make sure she’s safe. He’ll leave. That’s all the universe has to offer people like them.

“I thought you were renowned for your speeches, princess.”

“Fine. Have it your way, and take a damn compliment. You’re good. At pleasure.” Leia says, and her fingers tighten from where she clings to his arms.

“You’re not half-bad either.”

Boba's had sex before. But not in a while. It had been easier, when he was younger. Younger than even her. Just out of prison and desperate for connection. Find someone who would share their bed in exchange for protection or a flight somewhere.

Find someone to make him stop feeling so lonely.

But each time one of those people left, they took a bit of his feelings with him.

Until one day, he realized he didn’t need that connection, not any more.

He thought about it occasionally. Dreamed about it, certainly. But it was just not something that factored into his life, aside from the occasional hookup as part of a refueling stop.

Until he met Leia. Wild, impossible, dangerous Leia. A woman who dared to challenge the way her universe should work, a woman who wasn't afraid of who he was. A woman, he has to admit, he never thought would want him.

The night she'd bit his finger, he ditched his armor and headed into a cantina, desperate for a one-night connection. Only to find no one at the bar appealed to him, which left him with his hand and his imagination. The same thing played out after every one of their nocturnal meetings. That routine, he thinks, is half the reason he is neck-deep in this mess now.

And falling deeper by the minute.

Freefall never felt so good.


End file.
